


The Queen of Wishful Thinking

by theycallmethejackal



Category: The West Wing
Genre: During 'Dead Irish Writers', F/M, POV Donna, Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:05:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6080466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theycallmethejackal/pseuds/theycallmethejackal





	The Queen of Wishful Thinking

I like Amy Gardner.

It’s hard for me to admit because I never like Josh’s girlfriends. Actually if I’m being honest, I only have Mandy Hampton as a reference, but I’ve always thought that if that’s the kind of woman he dates, there’s no way I’ll ever like any of his girlfriends.

Plus there’s that teeny little crush I have on him. But it’s nothing. It’s just a matter of proximity. We spend so much time together that I was bound to find things attractive about him. But it’s just a little crush. It’s nothing important. Nothing to go crazy about. Our relationship is purely professional. I’m not sleeping with him. I’ve fantasized about it, don’t get me wrong, but it would be so inappropriate. Besides, he doesn’t want that from me. For that, he has Amy.

Amy, whom I like. She fights for women on the Hill, and she’s never been anything but nice to me. The only thing she ever did to me was date my boss, which is actually a good thing. It gives me a concrete reason to get over my little crush.

Mrs. Bartlet has managed to convince CJ to teach her The Jackal. I don’t know how, but I’m assuming she just said, “CJ, I’m the First Lady; teach me ‘The Jackal’,” and she did it. At some point around the time they got up, Amy rounded the coffee table to sit on the couch with me. They’d been at the party beforehand, so they’re all significantly drunker than I am, and I hope Josh has been watching his alcohol intake because he’s definitely going to have to drive Amy home, and his sensitive system can’t handle more than a couple flutes of champagne before he starts stumbling over himself.

“So…you’re Canadian, _eh_?” Amy asks, snorting a little as she laughs at her own joke.

“I guess so…” It’s definitely not my favorite discovery in the world. I’m proud to be an American, you know?

She refills her empty glass before leaning toward me, her legs tucked underneath her. I can’t help thinking that maybe she should take it easy on the wine for the rest of the night or Josh might have to _carry_ her home. “So you and Josh…?”

I lift my eyebrows in interest and turn my head toward her. I’m blushing, but I’m hoping she’ll attribute that to the alcohol and not my embarrassment over the question. Or maybe she won't notice at all in her current state of inebriation. “What about me and Josh?” I ask innocently.

“There are rumors. You know, that you two are…”

I shake my head slowly. “We’re not,” I promise. I’m not a naïve little waif like so many people seem to think I am. I hear the rumors. Especially after how much time I spent at the hospital and his place after Rosslyn.

“But you’re close,” Amy counters, and I’m amazed that I don’t feel like I’m being interrogated by my boss’ girlfriend. It just seems like girl talk. Like a friend talking to a friend about a guy.

Behind me, I hear raucous laughter from CJ, met by a seemingly offended “ _What?_ ” from the First Lady. I look at them and laugh at the exchange, grateful when Amy allows her attention to be diverted for a moment, too.

“Yeah, we’re close,” I reply, turning back to look at the brunette, who’s setting her now empty glass back on the coffee table. “He’s... he’s my best friend,” I admit. He _is_ my best friend. I don’t have much time to make friends outside of the office, and I spend more time with the senior staff than anyone else at the assistant level.

Of course, maybe claiming Josh as my best friend to his girlfriend isn’t the greatest idea. I’ve been in relationships with guys who have female best friends, and I have to admit I was jealous of those women. But Amy…she’s a strong, independent woman. She couldn’t possibly worry about _me_.

“I thought so,” she slurs. “He told me you’re not dating, but I wasn’t sure…” She pauses, as though realizing for the first time that she shouldn’t be saying this to me. “Don’t –– don’t tell him about this?” She asks, looking very vulnerable.

I just nod. I don’t get in the way of Josh’s relationships. In fact, I usually encourage them. He works hard, and he deserves to be happy.

She hums a little and leans into me, snuggling into my shoulder. “You shouldn’t develop an inferiority complex, Donna,” she mumbles as she closes her eyes and starts to fall asleep on my shoulder. “Josh is crazy about you.”

At that moment, Abbey Bartlet shouts, “They call me the jackal!” and Amy Gardner jolts awake again, eyes wide as she looks toward CJ and the First Lady. They all start laughing wildly as I stay in my state of shock.

I chalk her confession up to drunken rambling as I follow the other women back to the party, but the way Josh smiles when he tells me I’m an American again gives me a little flutter of hope that maybe she was right.

Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking.


End file.
